


Impregnation 6 - Missing You

by Moire (AlessNox)



Series: Molly's Little Helpers [6]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Cunnilingus, Experiment, F/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Pleasuring, clitoral sex, pwp but with a plot arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlessNox/pseuds/Moire
Summary: Sherlock misses John at their session, but Molly makes a willing subject for his experiments. John misses out.





	1. Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I won't be able to make the meeting tonight. I promised to take the new radiologist out to dinner, show her around a bit."

"You're on a date?"

"Sort of. It's just that she's new to the city, and I thought she might not want to spend all of her evenings alone in her room. I've done that often enough, and its rubbish. Sorry if it leaves you short. Apologize to Molly for me, will you?"

"So, you're really not coming tonight."

"I just said...look Sherlock, if I have a chance I might drop by after. Molly gave me that key to her flat... but honestly, I think I'm out today. The others will be there, right? Oops she's coming. Please text, don't call if you want to reach me. See you later. I'm off!"

The phone disconnected, but Sherlock continued to hold it by his ear for a while before plopping down on the edge of Molly's bed, and carefully laying it on the table.

Molly climbed onto the bed beside him. She crossed her legs, tucking her bare feet under the lacy rim of her white satin slip. "So John can't come either? With Lestrade and Sally away at district training and John wherever he is..."

"He's on a date."

"Is he? Well, that means it's just the two of us." Molly looked over at Sherlock's slouched shoulders, and frowned. "We can postpone things if you want."

He turned to look at her. His bare neck exposed by the low collar of his wine red shirt. "Is that what you want, Molly?"

"No, not really. It's strange, because I've spent years without any sex at all, but since we started this, hardly a night goes by without me putting my hand up inside me. It itches. Sometimes, especially when I go to bed early, I wake up from a dream and I can't rest until I've...well, until I've ridden the big black dildo into the floor." She blushed.

Sherlock looked down at her lap where her hands were demurely crossed.

"You're upset," Molly said. She reached out and stroked his arm. "I know we've never done it without John here, but I think you've got the hang of it. Come now. Don't be so depressed."

"I'm not depressed!" Sherlock said frowning. Then he threw himself down on the bed facing away from her.

Molly smiled, "Not depressed, huh?" She reached down to stroke his curls, and he swatted her hand away like an unruly cat.

Molly scooted closer to Sherlock and placed her arms around his shoulders. "It's not like John has left permanently. He's just taking a day off."

"To have sex with someone else."

"Did he say that?"

"Why else does he go on dates? I had hoped that this... that we would be enough for him... I should have known. He's never satisfied with what’s safe. He's always chasing what he doesn't have. Always searching for what he is missing."

"Not always."

"Isn’t he? And now that he's had... now that this is a settled thing, he’s bored. He wants to find someone else to service his needs."

"Service his needs? We're not a garage. My God, Sherlock! Is this a burden for you? Are you coming here simply because I asked you to? I know this wasn't your area before, but I thought, I hoped... please tell me I didn't bully you into having sex."

"No, Molly."

"Because I would be horrified. I don't ever want you to feel as if you were forced."

Sherlock rolled over and looked up into her eyes. The pale blue piercing her chest and making her thighs contract. "No Molly. I like it, I like you, very much, it's just..."

"It's just you like it better with John here. I know. It's pretty obvious, really."

"Molly," Sherlock said. His eyes focusing on her like razors. "I've just had a thought. I’ve been reading on female erogenous zones, and I realize that I have never properly done a study. You wouldn't mind letting me use you as a test subject?"

Molly's jaw dropped. She had to run the words through her mind a second time to make sure that he meant what she thought he meant. Even so she thought it best to ask. "Sherlock, are you offering to eat me out?"

"Eat you out? If by that you mean cunnilingus, then yes, and other things. I read an interesting paper about the three types of orgasm: clitoral, prostate, and cervical. I'd like to try each of them if you don't mind."

"I absolutely do not mind, not at all, and please add verbal to the list because I think I just creamed my knickers.

"You should take them off then."

"Oh yes, Sherlock! Absolutely."


	2. Chapter 2

Molly worked her knickers off of her hips and dropped them off her ankle onto the floor. She lay back on the bed and looked up at Sherlock. Her eyes examined the silky sheen of his red shirt, and slid past the alabaster beauty of his neck to follow the moles that bespeckled his skin. She only escaped the prison of his eyes by imagining her fingers in his raven dark curls. She sucked in a breath in anticipation, but released it when she realized that he wasn’t moving.

”Well then,” Molly said, “Are you ever planning to touch me?”

He reached toward her and lay two long fingertips on the hem of her slip before pulling them back.

”What’s wrong?” Molly asked.

Sherlock glanced up into her eyes. “Although I am apprised of the theory, I fall a bit short when it comes to the specifics.”

”What?”

”You need to tell me where to start.”

“Oh!” Molly placed a hand on her belly then, and laughed. She pulled up her knee, sliding it past her thigh, as she looked up into his bright eyes and smiled. “Well, what did the first paper say?”

”Clitoral stroking? Twenty minutes of repeated stimulation should be enough to achieve orgasm.”

Molly lifted herself up on her elbows, and nodded. “Well then? Get a move on!”

”First,  I need to find it.”

Molly widened her legs watching in amazement as Sherlock’s head slid beneath the hem of her slip. He pulled back then, pushing the hem up. Her head fell back and she exhaled loudly as he touched her right thigh. Then she heard a click, and looked down to see Sherlock opening his magnifying glass.

”Honestly, Sherlock, it’s not that small!”

”Just taking a look. It appears quite different from the drawing. Would you say your genitals are typical?”

”Typical? How should I know if they are typical? It isn’t like I go around asking people to see theirs.”

”Don’t you? You work at the morgue.”

”That’s different.”

”I suppose so. Your vagina appears so much pinker and moister. I think that it will be more elastic as well. Dead tissue does tend to be tough.”

”That’s really not very stimulating, Sherlock. Please, put the magnifyer away, and touch me already!”

Then Sherlock did. He started by placing his hand on her thigh and sliding the dress up her hips. Molly arched her back, and he stroked her belly, the tip of his middle finger caressing her belly button. Her muscles contracted and he looked down at her gently placing his hand on her mound of red hair. She moaned.

”Is that pleasurable? Does it feel good?”

“It would feel better if you stroked it.”

Sherlock stroked the mound and then moved his thumb to press against her clitoris. Molly raised her hips. His hand was so large that the middle finger stroked the bottom of her belly button even as his thumb stroked her knob.

“Harder, lover, harder” she said, and he paused to look at her face.

”Is that what we are, lovers? I thought more was involved. I suppose this can be called ‘making love’...”

”Sherlock!”

”Oh yes. Sorry,” he said dropping his head to stare between her legs again. He pressed down rubbing his thumb back and forth across her clitoris rapidly, almost too hard. He turned his palm down then and the tip of his index finger pressed against the entrance to her vagina searching for a way in.

She couldn’t stop herself. She reached down with two fingers and widened the hole making a squeal that raised an entire octave as his finger slipped inside and pressed against the wall of her vagina.

She bucked up with her hips, and his hand pushed her back down as his finger dug deeper, stroking the inside, his thumb keeping up its attack on her clitoris. Molly placed both her hands on the back of his and pushed as first two and then three of this long fingers dug deep. She bit her lip.

”Good?” Sherlock asked stopping again, and she almost screamed for him to continue. 

She was getting hot. She pushed her hips up pulling the slip up her body and ripping it off over her head. It flew off of the bed, she didn’t care where.

”More, Sherlock, more!” she cried, and then four fingers were inside her beating against the top of her vagina as his thumb stroked her clitoris. 

Molly cried out, and liquid began to squirt from her.

”Excellent!” Sherlock cried reaching out to take a glass off the bedside table so that be could collect a sample. He slid his fingers in and out even harder and she cried out.

“Oh God! It itches, scratch me more.” And Sherlock did, his long fingers going deep inside her until they bounced against the tip of her cervix. 

She felt her insides bending at his touch, and she couldn’t hold still. She grabbed his wrist and pushed it inside, feeling the creamy wet fluids dripping down the back of his hand. He carefully placed his sample down on the table, and then his other hand reached up to stroke her breast, gently rubbing against her nipples. 

Molly cried out again and tears came to her eyes as she orgasmed rubbing up against Sherlock’s palm, feeling his fingers on and in her. When her nipples began to hurt, she patted his hand and pulled away panting. When she could open her eyes again, she saw Sherlock staring at his hand. He walked over to his coat and took a vial out of his pocket. Then he stroked his palm with a cotton swab and placed it in the vial before struggling to figure out how to seal the cap with a sticky hand.

”I’m sorry to get you so messy, Sherlock.”

”Please, don’t be. This is quite interesting, and not unpleasant. Sperm is much less appealing or nutritious.” He ran his tongue along the side of his index finger. “Good. I quite like it. Would this be the right time to ‘ _eat you out?_ ’”

At the sound of those words, Molly contacted so hard her thighs shivered.


	3. Chapter 3

Anticipating a mess, Molly had placed damp flannels on one side of the warmer. Sherlock picked one up, and after spending several minutes smelling his fingers he meticulous wiped each one before taking another towel and wiping her from butt to belly button.

”Sherlock!” she cried blushing furiously. “You don’t have to do that.”

”Of course I do,” he said. We wouldn’t want any stray fluids ruining my taste experiment.”

 He folded the towel and after daintily wiping the edges of his mouth, he placed it down on the table and rolled up his sleeves. “Alright, Molly. I’m ready.”

Molly’s chest rose and fell. Her heart beat faster. “You don't have to...” she began looking down at the way he maneuvered himself between her legs.

”Come now, Molly, you’re a scientist too. You should know that one trial is never enough data. Besides, the predictions about how many orgasms a woman can have in a row are quite astonishing. I won’t be happy until we match it. Now what would you like next?”

Molly propped herself up on her elbows reveling in the sight of Sherlock on her bed. Her eyes traveled across his smart trousers to the shirt buttons about to pop. Then to that long neck. Then above his chin...

”Your mouth. Your lips, your tongue, I...” Molly’s mouth ran dry as she stared at Sherlock’s lips. His pale, shapely lips. He stuck the tip of his tongue out between them, and then reached out to her, wrapping his large hands around her thighs.

He sat on the bed, his knees spread. Trousers pulled tight over his thighs as he lifted her hips up onto his lap. She fell back onto the bed and covered her eyes with one forearm as he held her buttocks up to his mouth like a wedge of melon before blowing a wet warm breath across the hood of her clitoris.

Molly shivered. Sherlock’s fingers dug deep as he kissed the sensitive thing making Molly moan. He stroked his long tongue up the length of her, again and again. She rolled her hips in his grip, and his fingers dug deeper. She had seen once at the museum great statues of marble where carved white figures appeared to dig into marble thighs. Sherlock’s hands looked just like them. They were works of art, and his tongue played a symphony against her flesh. She spread her arms wide and pushed up against him as his tongue flickered against her Venus knob. She couldn’t have kept quiet for anything.

Molly crowed. She cried, and she came, and she came, and she came until her cum flowed down his chin. He rubbed his face side to side digging into her, and she moaned smearing his cheekbones with her wet.

Then she felt his tongue inside of her, drumming on the roof of her vagina, and she screamed out in pleasure, her toes curling so hard they hurt as his tongue rolled in and out, in and out. His lips quivered along the roof of her clitoris, and she clamped her muscles tight before releasing it all and letting everything flow from her.

She felt so hot and so wet, and his mouth stroked over her, pleasure flowing out of her like light. Like sunlight streaming out of her hole, and he did not stop licking her, and she could not stop thrusting up, and he did not stop holding her, fingers digging into her buttocks, her body, her pleasure, spilling out like seeds from a pomegranate. 

“Oooohhhh!” she cried, and he lifted his head to look at her, his blue eyes questioning.

”I counted three orgasms just now, was that right?”

Molly giggled, her whole body shaking as she asked, “Do you think I was counting?”

Molly heard another click and looked up to see Sherlock, phone in hand snapping a picture.

”Sherlock! What the hell!”

He stared at his phone. “This really is quite different from the diagrams. Your vulva is quite flushed and full. Why aren’t the diagrams like that?”

”I guess the scientists who drew them weren’t as good at sex as you.”

Sherlock stared at her and smiled. “Am I... good?”

“You’ve given me... how many orgasms now?”

”Four, no...five”

”If you can do that in a night, then yes, you are good at sex.”

”Then shall we go for a round half dozen? I’ve yet to see a purely cervical one. Though I would like to examine this taste once more. It’s different from the first time. Amazing!”

Sherlock lowered his mouth to lap the inside of her folds. Instinctively, she pulled her thighs together trapping him there, her hands threading into his curls as she rolled forward.

Sherlock lapped across her cunt, and he lapped again. She was wrapped around his head and had no desire to release him. She forgot time, or what else his experiment might entail. This was more than she had ever dreamed, and she had dreamt of Sherlock quite alot. 

He was licking her, stroking her, his mouth wet across her other mouth. His chin stroking across the inside of her thighs. He was focused only on her pleasure, and it wasn’t like riding a dildo. It wasn’t like scratching an itch. It was like sunlight, and blue clouds, and friendship, sweet like rain on a daisy. He didn’t ask for anything, he only gave, and she forgave him for all the little slights and hurts he’d given her before, because this was the real Sherlock. The sweet person he kept hidden inside. So he wouldn’t get hurt.

”Uhmmm.” Someone cleared his throat, and Molly looked up to see John at the bedroom door. “I... uh, didn’t mean to interrupt but...”

Sherlock craned his head around to stare at John, and John stared back, all the color draining from him as he gazed at Sherlock’s cum-streaked face.”

”Jo-hn!” Sherlock moaned, “I thought you couldn’t come.”

John’s eyes travelled up and down Sherlock’s body, his own appearing more distressed each moment. “I thought, I guessed that... she had work to do, so we called it off early, and I thought... but I can see that you have everything well in hand, or mouth or...” he rolled the keys in his hand staring wide-eyed at Sherlock. “Well, I’m off.”

John turned then and fled. Sherlock rose to his feet leaving Molly splayed out on the bed. She lifted herself up on her elbows watching as Sherlock walked to the bedroom door. They could hear the front door slam closed.

Then Toby wizzed past Sherlock’s feet and launched himself to land claws first on Molly’s stomach.

“Cat!” She cried, and Toby bounced off of her knocking bottles off of the table before hiding under the bed.

Sherlock stared back at her looking lost.

Molly rolled off the bed, picking up a fresh cloth as she went, then she took Sherlock’s hand and led him back to the bed. She sat him down and carefully wiped his face and neck.

His eyes strayed toward the door as if expecting John to return.

”Don’t worry, Sherlock. Come, let’s have a cuddle.”

Molly pulled him onto her and wrapped her arms around him. She lay back resting his head on her chest as she stroked his hair. Sherlock turned his face in to nuzzle the skin between her breasts, and she kissed the top of his head.

”There, there lover. Don’t fret. Tomorrow it’ll be right as rain.”


End file.
